Unmasking and Retrospection

To those hardcore readers of my blog, I thank you for your dedication. I wish to quash the rumors with this post, for they are not rumors, they are true.

First off, this is indeed my last post. As the pilot semester for Fine Arts 100 draws to a close, so too must this blog. Tears are not necessary, but they are of course appreciated.

Secondly, it appears I have said too much in my last post, revealing that I was in the group that created the "Tree of Life" for last night's gala. To protect the innocent members of team "Sunflower Galaxy," it is time for me to unmask myself.

I, Totally Not Ryan Krasman, am in fact Ryan Krasman. Ah, but isn't it always the one you least suspect.

Truth be told, I've been gradually unmasking myself for a while now. As the posts piled up, I have found myself, subconsciously of course, revealing more and more about my inner self. Of course, I never dropped the wit and sarcasm I habitually lace my posts with, but if it brought you even one chuckle, I'm sure you didn't mind.

Now, as this class ends, I leave you with two things.

First off, my retrospective on this class. I can honestly say that this class was one of the strangest experiences of my life. I never, for a minute, knew what was going to happen in a lecture or a tutorial. I looked at the beginning of our group project and did not suspect how it would turn out. I looked at my blog, empty except for one post, and didn't know what would come out next.

But the creativity kept flowing. This course encouraged my creativity like very little before has done, and whatever my feelings about specific lectures that may have fallen flat, or tutorials that could sometimes feel like timesinks, I owe this class that much in gratitude.

Overall, this class felt very much like what it is: a first draft. Sure, you need to substitute "you're" for "your" in a few places, and some of the sentences run on to nothing, but the thought is there - the heart, the idea, the originality is all there for the class to see. I wish only the best for this most creative of endeavors.

And second (but not least), a retrospective poem; the poem I wrote, in my head, on the way home from the first tutorial. I wrote a lot of poetry for this blog, not all of it good, but I assure you this poem is the best of the lot. It has a true sentiment behind it, a wit that I pride myself on, and a sexist line that could get me in a lot of trouble (I will state right now, the offending line is only used to make the character look ridiculous). Poetry was my break from the box; not something I've often done before, and something I may do in the future. I owe that to this class. Therefore, I leave you with "An Old Poet to his Pupil".

AN OLD POET TO HIS PUPIL

“Rhyme is poetry, they're together,
It has been such, it shall be ever,
Poetry, rhyme, they're together,
Don't forget this, never ever.

All of poetry shall be rhymed,
It has been such since beginning times,
Poetry is nothing without rhyme,
And words that sound at convenient times,
It is only beautiful and sublime,
If it carries with it rhyme.

A knight rides horses clothed in leather,
It has been such, it will be ever,
Man cannot predict the weather,
It has been so, this changes never,
Women fail at each endeavour,
And this will stay the same forever,
Rhyme and poetry go together,
Don't forget this, never ever.”

“But, Master,” the pupil asks, “What of the new poetry?”
“New poetry?” the master snaps.

“Yes, Master, the poetry of a new age.
Liberated from rhyme and structure.
For, rhyme and structure are the obstacles of beauty,
Not the marks of it. Beautiful words,
Ideas that contradict, yet confirm.
Challenge, and champion.
Words that burrow between the ears of the human, into the mind,
Then sharply descend, plummeting, striking the heart,
With a fierce, resonating blow.
Then spreading to the eyes,
Once closed, now open. Seeing green where before there was red,
And, most importantly, beauty where once there was grey.
What of that poetry, Master?”

“That poetry does not exist!
Poetry only can consist
Of rhyme and rhythm, not of this!
Sit down, boy, and do desist.

How shall you have the independent mind that you have sought,
If you ramble off of time and forget what I have taught?

Poetry, rhyme, they're together,
DON'T FORGET THIS, never ever.”